


Coffee Shop Guy

by Vintage_Champagne



Category: RWBY
Genre: <- But Not Too Much, Actually Slightly Spicy Fluff, Adorable Aftercare, Barista Qrow, Bottom Qrow, Did I Miss Anything???, Explicit Smut, Fingering, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Gay Smut, Hot Chocolate, Light Academia Aesthetic, M/M, More Fluff, Obsessive Clover, Okay Yes I Did, Smut, These Tags Are Embarrassing To Type, Top Clover, americanos, coffee shop AU, did i mention the fluff?, lots of smut, snarky qrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintage_Champagne/pseuds/Vintage_Champagne
Summary: Clover likes the knockout-gorgeous barista at the coffee shop.Need I explain any further?
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 36
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

Clover hummed as he casually walked to the Sanguine Bean, a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. He’d been coming there for the past two weeks, ever since he’d seen that cute barista. He smiled at the thought of him. As Clover opened the glass door, the scent of rich coffee filled the air. Deep, slightly smoky, woodsy almost. Like a cabin in a snowy pine forest, on an inlet surrounded by mountains and arctic water, a fire blazing away.

The inside of the shop was tastefully aesthetic, light academia-style decor. The walls were a light mocha, the menu written directly on the wall between two dark metal-and-wood shelves in what looked like white chalk. The main counter stood in the middle of the room, dark stools on the customer’s side on polished dark floors. Artificial golden light came from exposed lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling along with a string of fairy lights along the back wall. Natural, grey light shone through wall-to-ceiling windows directly next to the door.

“Hey, Lucky Charm,” the raven haired barista said, grinning. “Your usual?”

Clover smiled. “You know me too well. Though, what do you think about shaking it up a little?”

“Oh? You’ve piqued my interest,” Qrow said, leaning onto the counter with his forearms. “What’re you thinking of this time?”

“What do you recommend?” Clover countered. “How about you give me one of your favorites?”

Qrow raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and smirked. “You got it, Lucky Charm.” As he turned away to make . . . whatever he was making, Clover took the moment to properly admire him.

The barista had raven black, feathery looking hair slightly spiked up in the back. (Clover had wondered many times how Qrow got it to look like that.) With eyes the color of fresh summer watermelon, he made a striking appearance. His overall figure was lithe, like a jungle cat--muscular, but not obviously so. (Yes, Clover had pictured Qrow as a jaguar or a panther. Sue him.)

As per the aesthetic, Qrow was dressed simply: loose, almost baggy, white button up with the sleeves rolled up, coffee-colored slacks with charcoal grey grid lines, dark caramel dress shoes. On the back of the wall behind the counter was a row of hooks, only one of which was occupied with a soft beige overcoat.

When had his obsession started? The first time he’d walked into the shop. It had been blustery AND rainy, and Clover had darted into the first shop he’d seen when lightning cracked across the sky. As soon as he’d locked eyes with the gorgeous, lean barista, Clover knew he was doomed. Won over by Qrow’s wit and sarcasm, he’d visited the next day just to see him. And the next day. And the next day. And the--well, you get the idea.

And all this time, he’d been ordering the same thing--an Americano. Simple, comforting. Oh, and somehow made even better when Qrow made it.

Clover snapped out of his thoughts when Qrow placed a ceramic mug--though it looked more like a bowl--on the counter in front of him. Fluffy whipped cream topped a lake of hot chocolate, scented steam rising in Pinterest-worthy curls.

“Hot chocolate?” Clover asked, grinning. For once, it seemed as though Qrow didn’t have a snarky comeback.

“Well, you said one of my favorites,” Qrow said, looking away almost shyly. “One of my childhood favorites, so . . .” he trailed off. “I thought you’d like it,” he finished, smiling bashfully at Clover.

“Thank you,” he said, wrapping his hands around the mug. Tentatively, Clover took a sip. His eyes widened as the taste of rich, creamy chocolate filled his mouth. The liquid was at the perfect temperature: delightfully warm, almost uncomfortably so, but not scalding. Truly, Qrow was a master barista.

“Well?” Qrow asked, leaning on his hands with his elbows on the table. “How is it?”

“Amazing,” Clover admitted. “Though, I’m not surprised--you made it.”

Qrow looked away, a hand over his mouth and a pink hue to his cheekbones. “Is it sweet enough for you?” he managed, though it was somewhat muffled.

“What for? I already have you,” Clover said, winking at him. Qrow blushed even harder.

“Shut it,” he said, glaring at the windows. Clover laughed, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter to keep his barista from getting too angry. (He failed miserably.)

“Relax, Feathers,” Clover said, not paying too much attention to the nickname. Qrow switched his death glare from the poor windows to him, but cracked a smile before snickering to full-on laughing.

“Can I try it?” Qrow gasped out breathlessly.

“Try what?” Clover asked, grinning at him.

“The hot chocolate, Lucky Charm,” Qrow quipped wryly, snickering.

Clover smacked his forehead. “Of course, go ahead-!” He started pushing the mug over but was cut off when Qrow reached over the drink, grabbed his collar, and pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

Caught off guard, Clover could only blink in shock. Qrow’s lips were warm, slightly cold compared to his own. A little chapped, but still incredibly soft compared to his jawline that could probably cut glass and sharp tongue. But all too soon, his raven haired barista was pulling away, the hue of shame coloring his fair skin.

“You’re right, it is sweet,” Qrow said, grinning at him. When Clover didn’t say anything but continued to stare in shock, the barista’s smile faded. “Clover, I’m sorry I didn’t mean-” Qrow started, eyes wide, watching Clover walk around the counter. “What are you--mmh!”

Clover calmly lifted him, placed the surprisingly light barista onto the counter, and dove right back in for a second kiss. Pressing up against Qrow, his hands tightening on his waist, Clover licked into Qrow’s mouth. Relishing his surprised gasp, Clover plunged his tongue inside his mouth and started exploring. He felt Qrow arch his back, his spine curving beautifully. Qrow made a soft noise, pulling back but keeping his arms loosely draped over Clover’s shoulders.

“Not here,” he said, his blush heating his cheeks. “Someone could just walk in on us,” he said, hunching his shoulders.

“Aw, you’re cute,” Clover said, leaning in to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“I mean it, Cloves,” Qrow said, making no move to get up.

“You sure about that?” Clover asked wryly.

“Fine, fine. Move it,” Qrow sighed exaggeratedly and pushed Clover away with his foot. Clover laughed, raising his hands up in surrender, and watched the lithe man hop down.

The two stood for a second, unsure of what to say, until Qrow broke the silence. “Oh, your hot chocolate got cold,” he mused, wrapping his hands around the mug. “I can brew you another?” he offered, looking up at Clover.

“Oh, there’s no need,” he said, noticing how the slightly hopeful look in the barista’s eyes dimmed. “I’ll just come back at closing,” he finished, smirking. Qrow’s eyes shot up to his, blush returning with a vengeance.

Clover hummed as he walked out, cold wind whipping his clothes and hair. Hot chocolate was quickly becoming his favorite drink.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sequel...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE ✨✨
> 
> IM SORRY FIR BEING LITERALLY DEAD FOR LIKE A WEEK-
> 
> BUT
> 
> DUE TO POPULAR DEMAND
> 
> HERE IS DA PART 2!!! :D
> 
> but WARNING!
> 
> this contains sMUT!!! specifically gAY SMUT!!! if you don’t like it, then click off nOw and enjoy the first chapter! 
> 
> thank you <3

Clover quietly snuck up to the windows of the Sanguine Bean, scanning the store. He grinned when he saw his adorable barista with his back turned, a plan forming in his mind. He very slowly, very quietly, eased the door open, slipped inside, and closed the door.

Qrow’s raspy, melodic voice was singing softly to a song--Jealous Girl by Lana Del Rey. “If I can’t have you baby, come on give it to me--bam!” He stacked a series of mugs and effortlessly placed them into a cabinet without missing a beat. “If I can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can.”

Swiftly, Clover wrapped his arms around Qrow, enjoying the little yelp he made. “Baby I’m a gangster too, and it takes two to tango,” he cooed into his ear, “you don’t wanna dance with me, dance with me?”

“Clover,” Qrow said, shuddering in his arms.

“Honey I’m in love with you, if you don’t feel the same boy you don’t wanna mess with me,” he said, voice dropping lower.

“Clover, wait-” Qrow mumbled, knowing full well the next lyrics.

“Cause I’m a jealous, jealous, jealous boy. If I can’t have you baby, if I can't have you baby,” he purred, relishing the way Qrow squirmed half-heartedly in his grip. “Jealous, jealous, jealous boy, ” he hummed, dragging out the sound, “if I can’t have you baby no one else in this world can.”

Qrow finally managed to slip out of Clover’s hold, turning and pressing their lips together feverishly. Clover pulled him closer, forcing his head to tilt because of their height difference.

“Jealous, jealous, jealous boy, ” Qrow chorused, albeit more shyly than Clover, “if I can’t have you baby--”

“No one else in this world can!” Clover finished, swooping back down into a kiss. He nipped at Qrow’s lips, slipping his tongue inside when Qrow opened for him. While he was distracted, Clover drew a hand under Qrow’s shirt, running up and down his sides.

Qrow made a strangled sound, pulling away and glaring accusingly at Clover. “You bastard, your hands are freezing!” He hurriedly tugged his shirt down and shivered.  
  
“Oops, sorry Feathers,” Clover said regretfully, giving him a chaste kiss to apologize. Qrow huffed, but accepted it anyways.

Clover’s hands lingered to his waist, sliding up and down his back. “Don’t even think about it,” Qrow warned, eyes mirthful.

“What are you going to do about it?” Clover asked playfully. As if to accentuate his point, his hand strayed towards the hem of Qrow’s shirt again.

Qrow broke away at that, wrenching the beige overcoat from the hooks. “Your house or mine?” he asked breathlessly, pulling down the blinds and opening the door.

“We could do it here,” Clover said suggestively, to which Qrow gave him a withering look. “Okay, okay,” he said quickly, raising his hands in defense. “Yours?”

Qrows pulled on his coat, grabbing Clover by the hand and pulling him outside. With practised ease, he closed and locked the door one-handed before racing down the snow-covered sidewalks, little snow flurries dancing in the winter air.

“In a rush, are we?” Clover shouted, laughing, over the wind. Qrow turned back briefly, a smile lighting up his face. Clover wished he had a camera, but settled for a memory snapshot instead.

Surprisingly, Qrow’s apartment wasn’t too far away from the Sanguine Bean. They pretty much sprinted through the lobby, jumping into an elevator--thankfully empty. Qrow laughed, eyes bright. His cheeks were flushed: partly from the cold, partly from the run, and partly--Clover hoped--from being with him.

“You have snow in your hair,” Qrow told him, grinning.

“Do I?” Clover asked, running a hand through his chestnut locks.

“Yeah, right . . .” Qrow leaned in, carnation irises filling Clover’s vision, “there!” He booped Clover’s nose, laughing and dancing back in the narrow elevator.

“You’re horrible.” Clover grinned and stalked towards him, arms on either side of his head. “Such a tease.”

Qrow’s gaze flitted to the side, and he smirked mischievously before ducking under Clover’s arms and bolting out the opening elevator doors. “Room 1753!” he called before taking off.

Clover grinned and raced after him. He didn’t put his full effort into it, especially since there were other people around, but it was obvious Qrow lived for the chase.

He caught up to Qrow just as the latter opened his door, laughing. Clover all but tackled him inside, pinning up against the door that had just been opened. He ground against the smaller, grinning when Qrow whined.

“Stop teasing!” he said, pouting. Clover laughed and kissed him again.

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Shut up!” Qrow shrieked at him.

“Make--no no, never mind, don’t do that,” Clover corrected quickly at Qrow’s devious smile and cracking knuckles.

“Scared, Lucky Charm?” Qrow asked, linking arms around Clover’s neck and tilting his head coyly.

“You wish,” Clover responded. Just like at the coffee shop, he lifted the barista easily, this time over his shoulder.

“Are you kidding me,” Qrow’s irate voice asked. “I can’t believe you! I’m not a sack of potatoes!”

Clover laughed. “Which way to your bedroom, Feathers?”

“Down the hallway, all the way at the end. Right side.” He felt Qrow shudder slightly, probably from anticipation.

In the blink of an eye, Clover swept through the hallway and into Qrow’s bedroom, tastefully decorated. However, he didn’t spend too much time on the possessions and art around the room, preferring to focus on the masterpiece lying on dark sheets.

He slowly pulled off his tie, Qrow watching him. He seemed content to lay and wait--worked for Clover. After shedding his suit coat, he leaned down and pressed a few quick kisses to Qrow’s mouth.

“When’s the last time you did this?” he asked lowly, unbuttoning Qrow’s white shirt.

“Long time ago,” Qrow replied breathlessly, arching up into feather light touches. “Y-You?”

Instead of responding, Clover nipped at Qrow’s neck. He hissed but tilted his head to the side, giving Clover more space to work.

“You have to tell me if I’m hurting you or anything, okay?” Clover said, pausing his gentle bites.

“Yeah, sure,” Qrow said quickly, shivering. Clover narrowed his eyes before spontaneously licking a long stripe up the side of his neck. Qrow yelped, jolting to the side.

“This is important,” Clover huffed, giving him a stern look. Qrow whined, but another look from Clover made him quiet.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it!” Qrow squirmed impatiently, tugging at Clover’s shirt. “Hurry up!”

Clover sighed affectionately and pinned Qrow’s wrists to the bed with one hand. “Say it first.” He rubbed along Qrow’s sides, still over his button-down for the moment.

“Okay, okay! I promise or whatever,” Qrow said, pulling against Clover’s hands. “I said it, I said it!” He writhed against the sheets when Clover pinched the skin between his ribs.

“Doesn’t sound convincing,” Clover said indifferently, when in reality he was silently swooning over the curves and arches Qrow’s body could make.

“It’s the best you’re going to get!” Qrow gasped out. “Please!”

“Alright, alright. Relax,” Clover said, gently pressing soft kisses to his cheeks. Qrow allowed it for a second or two before turning away to pull off his shirt.

Clover sat back on his heels, content to watch Qrow strip. First the white oversized shirt, then his slacks. Clover pulled him back at that point, impatient as well, for a brief hot and heavy makeout session.

“Off,” Qrow panted, tugging at the hem of Clover’s shirt. Clover carefully pushed him to lay back again, pulling his shirt over his head.

Qrow’s hands came up, tracing over defined muscles. While Qrow was ogling him, Clover decided to return the favor. His eyes fell upon porcelain skin, unblemished and perfect. (Though not for much longer.) His form was lithe, not as distinct as Clover’s: all sinewy lines and curves.

Instinctively, Clover leaned down and sucked a bruise into that perfect skin. And another. And another. Until Qrow was writhing and a line of blooming purple and blue marks created a sinuous trail from his neck to his hips.

“Cloverrrr,” Qrow whined. He rutted forward against Clover’s leg, arching at the fraction.

“Be patient,” Clover murmured, absently stroking his thigh. He quickly shirked off his pants, kicking them somewhere in the room. Teasingly, he pulled Qrow’s waistband out before releasing it with an audible snap. Qrow hissed, injured, and Clover laughed before kissing him swiftly.

“Don’t be mean,” Qrow said, pouting.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Clover said, chastised, before slipping a hand into his briefs. Qrow tensed, and Clover rubbed soothing circles into his hips. “Relax. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Qrow nodded almost imperceptibly, and Clover took that as permission to slide his boxers all the way off. Immediately, one of his bright blushes spread over his cheeks--not blotchy or spotty, but a perfect, even hue.

Carefully, he wrapped his hand around Qrow’s length, stroking a few times to gauge his reaction.

It was immediate.

Qrow arched, crying out. His lashes fluttered, eyes rolling back, and hands fisted the sheets tightly.

“Huh . . . sensitive,” Clover said thoughtfully.

“Shut u--aah!” Qrow slammed his eyes shut when Clover squeezed his dick roughly. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown wide and the soft pink of his irises were pushed to a thin ring, barely there.

While he was distracted, Clover gingerly prodded at the tight ring of muscles between Qrow’s legs. By the hitch in his breathing and the tensing of his legs, Clover knew this didn’t go unnoticed.

Clover resumed his handjob, and Qrow relaxed again. After a few minutes, he leaned over and asked, “Where do you keep your lube?”

“T-Top draweR!” Qrow gasped. Clover smirked and drew his hands away, opening said drawer and pulling out a bottle as well as a box of condoms he found in there as well. After uncapping it, pouring some out, and throwing the bottle somewhere into the sheets, he leaned back over Qrow and rubbed his fingers together.

“You ready?” he asked, prodding gently at his hole again. Qrow let out a breath, nodding somewhat shakily.

“Be careful,” he murmured, looking away. Clover captured his mouth in a kiss, soft and sweet.

“I’ll be gentle,” Clover reassured him. Qrow smiled up at him, and not his usual guarded grin. This one was open, trusting, and absolutely gorgeous.

Then his smile turned wicked, and he pulled Clover down to kiss him, rough and passionate and filled with lust. Clover hesitated just a beat before gently pushing a finger past the tight ring of muscle, listening to Qrow’s hiss against his lips.

“It gets better, I promise,” Clover said. Even as he spoke, his finger was twisting and prodding, looking for that one spot.

“F-Feels weird,” Qrow said, his voice betraying his discomfort. Clover carefully pushed his finger in deeper, and Qrow winced, features twisting. “Hurts, Clover it--AH!”

Clover smirked at Qrow’s jolt, brushing against his prostrate. “Found it,” he whispered, pressing down harshly. Qrow just about howled, body contorting beautifully. Clover slid another finger inside, brushing just over the spot, listening to Qrow’s soft whimpers and whines.

He scissored his fingers, stretching and pulling all to the music of Qrow’s voice. He was pretty quiet, but Clover planned to tease much, much more sounds before the end of the night.

Clover could tell the moment Qrow finally adjusted to his fingers, when he started cautiously meeting the slow thrusts in and out. As he pushed a third finger in, pressing down on his prostrate again, Qrow practically sobbed.

“I’m r-ready! S-Stop prepping m-me!” Qrow cried out, back arching at another blunt hit to his prostrate.

“Are you sure?” Clover asked, continually pumping his fingers in and out of Qrow’s sinfully tight heat.

“Y-Yes!”

“Alright, alright. Calm down,” Clover hummed, pecking Qrow on both cheeks. He squirmed, tilting his hips invitingly.

“Get on with it,” he panted, head rolling to the side. Clover couldn’t help but take a quick nip at Qrow’s whine when he pulled his fingers out.

Clover grabbed the box of condoms, pulling his boxers off and sliding one on. Grabbing the bottle of lube, he drizzled a generous amount onto his dick.

“Maybe you should have kept going . . .” Qrow said, gaze zeroed in. Clover laughed and kissed him. “No, I’m serious!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. I’ll be careful, I promise.” Clover gently pressed up against Qrow hole. “Ready?”

Qrow took a breath and nodded. “Go,” he said, an almost unnoticeable tremor through his voice.

“Relax. It’ll be much, much easier if you do,” Clover said, leaning down to kiss him. Honestly, he’d never tire of kissing this man.

Qrow looped his arms around Clover’s neck, pulling him closer. And when he was sufficiently distracted, Clover pushed in.

Qrow made a sharp strangled sound, eyes rolling back and eyelashes fluttering. “H-Hurts-!”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Clover said, dotting absent kisses over his chest. Already, he was struggling not to slam all the way in and pound Qrow into the mattress and the barista’s slick heat and suffocating warmth wasn’t making it any easier. “Relax, please . . . you’re squeezing.”

“I-I’m noT,” Qrow gasped out, fisting the sheets again. Clover thought they would have ripped by now with the way Qrow was pulling on them.

Clover pressed their lips together, though it wasn’t much of an actual kiss than it was a distraction. Slowly, oh so slowly, Qrow loosened, muscles trembling.

“That’s it, good,” Clover praised, noting the pleased flush that returned with a vengeance. He slid in further, desperately trying to collect himself. Qrow whined, back arching and tightening again.

Clover rubbed soothing circles into his sharp hip bones, running his other hand up and down Qrow’s side to try and get him to relax. Every so carefully, he pushed a little further in, then waited. Rinse and repeat until finally, he bottomed out.

Clover shut his eyes for a moment to collect himself, breathing in and out. He cracked an eye open, taking in the expression on Qrow’s face. “Feathers? You okay?”

The breathless reply came a few seconds later: “Y-Yeah, give me a second to a-adjust.”

Patiently, Clover waited. Even though he was dying to pull out, pin Qrow to the bed, and snap his hips in, he waited. Hopefully, they’d have plenty more opportunities to do that. His dick twitched at the thought, and he heard Qrow’s gasp.

“O-Okay . . . go slow?” Qrow asked, his lithe frame trembling slightly.

Clover nodded, drawing out just a tiny bit before rocking back in. Qrow all but mewled, nails digging into Clover’s back.

“Again,” he breathed, shifting slightly. Clover complied, but pulled out further before driving back in--gently. Qrow let out little punched out breaths, twisting sinuously underneath him.

A few minutes later, and Clover was pulling all the way out before slamming back in. Qrow was writhing underneath him, and Clover had pinned his wrists together with one hand. But as enjoyable as it was for Clover, he wanted Qrow to feel the same, and so he began angling his thrusts in the area he knew his prostrate was. There were only a few before Qrow cried out, his words becoming incoherent.

All Clover heard were the sweet sounds of Qrow begging, his back curved like a taut bow. He pulled out, ignoring Qrow’s startled yelp, and flipped his barista onto his front. With a hand, Clover shoved his upper back down, keeping his hips in the air. Then he slid back into that warm velvet heat, listening to Qrow’s high-pitched keen of pleasure.

Clover leaned down, biting onto the side of Qrow’s neck. He whined, tilting his head, and there was no hesitation for Clover to continue marking Qrow with bright hickeys and fresh bite marks.

“Clover!” Qrow arched his back, chin buried in the pillows. “Wanna cum!”

“You can, you can,” Clover assured him. Qrow arched further, meeting Clover thrust for thrust.

“Please, please, please,” Qrow moaned, shuddering. Clover bit into his shoulder before wrapping a hand around his dick, jerking him off roughly.

The stimulation proved a little over the top, and Qrow cried out a broken version of his name before cumming hard. He tightened around Clover in a vice-like grip, and Clover had to pause briefly as Qrow came down from his high.

As soon as he relaxed, Clover slammed into him, drawing a weak whine from Qrow. It only took a few more harsh thrusts before he was cumming as well, filling the condom.

He winced pulling out, and Qrow cried out from overstimulation. Clover shushed him with a few chaste kisses, tying the condom up and throwing it away. “I’ll be right back.”

It took him a few tries, but he opened the door to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel, letting it soak in warm water. He padded back into the bedroom and gathered Qrow into his arms, wiping the fluid off his body. Once done with that, Clover hung it off a random hook on Qrow’s wall to be washed later.

Pulling the soiled sheet off the bed, he folded it with the dirty part facing inside before grabbing a blanket from a linen closet. He settled in next to Qrow, throwing the blanket over the two of them.

“How was that?” he asked, smirking and looking down at his raven. “Mmmh . . .” Qrow mumbled, his eyes sliding shut.

“Are you always this out of it?” Clover asked wryly, brushing a few strands of hair away from Qrow’s face.

“Yeah . . .” Qrow nuzzled under Clover’s neck, curling up next to him. “Sleep . . .”

“Alright, alright,” Clover hummed, wrapping an arm around Qrow’s slender waist. Somehow, Qrow was half on top of him with one leg thrown over Clover’s and his head tucked under Clover’s chin.

“Love you . . .” Qrow murmured, so quietly at first Clover thought he’d imagined it. But no, there’s no way he’d imagine his barista saying that. No matter what. Which meant there was only one thing Clover could say back . . .

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it im almost afraid to ask-
> 
> too cringey??
> 
> too unrealistic??
> 
> not spicy enough??
> 
> also it’s snowing you guys!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> part 2?? 👀


End file.
